


The Prince Tells All

by bearlywrite



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Fluff, Interviews, M/M, Mentions of Rise Kujikawa, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Pre-Relationship, Slightly - Freeform, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26450569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearlywrite/pseuds/bearlywrite
Summary: Staring back at him was the smiling, stunning, too-damn-attractive-it-was-detrimental-to-Akira’s-health face of Goro Akechi— and damn him for being so photogenic.Where Akechi gets interviewed by a teen magazine and Akira loses his mind over it.And maybe manages to snag a detective prince along the way.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 24
Kudos: 351
Collections: 21 plus akeshuake server events





	The Prince Tells All

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is a part of the 21+ akeshuake server minibang! Look forward to more amazing fics and art that will be posted and check out the content created by the amazing writers and artists who have posted in the collection.

Akira watched from his perch on his bed as Ann and Ryuji trudged up the steps to his attic, smiling to himself as his friends came into view. Ryuji was yammering away about something that had happened on their trip to the store— had been ever since he entered Leblanc. His voice always tended to travel, his enthusiasm for even the most mundane things coloring his words and projecting them just a touch on the too-loud scale. And, judging by the look on Ann’s face who was trudging behind him, her arms full of sweets and magazines, he’d been talking about it for longer than necessary. 

“And I was like… ‘dude, is this  _ for real?’  _ and that asshole— ” Ryuji flopped down on his couch, mouth open with the intent of continuing his story when Ann dropped the load she had in her arms on his lap. 

“Yeah, yeah Ryuji.” Ann waved her hand dismissively at his splutters of protest. “We get it. Can’t we go anywhere without you spouting off to someone?” 

Ryuji gasped an offended breath, eyes flashing in playful mischief as his hands found a package of fruit flavored gummies. Ann paused, a hand stretched out with a mumbled “don’t you dare” before the package was hurled at her. It hit her in the cheek and fell to the floor between them, everything in the room falling silent like the calm before a storm. 

And then the fight was on. 

Akira shook his head with a fond smile as he watched the two bicker and launch packages of snacks back and forth. It was like watching an old married couple argue over the weather or some inconsequential thing, but it never failed to put a smile on his face. He was grateful for the two, no matter how lively they could get. 

Morgana, however, was a different story. He leapt from his spot on Akira’s bed, his tail thrashing back and forth as he hopped up onto the table beside the couch, narrowly dodging a colorful package that was launched by Ryuji. 

“Lady Ann!” He pounced over to the couch, landing squarely on Ryuji’s shoulder and pushing a paw in his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!”

“Why you little— ” Ryuji grumbled around the paw squishing his cheek. He dropped the package that was in his hand in favor of grabbing Morgana’s tail, giving it a small tug to knock the cat off balance. 

Ann sighed and shook her head, plopping down next to the fighting boy and cat. A symphony of disgruntled meows and shouts of “hey watch the claws” filled the room while Akira and Ann watched in mild horror.

Just another day of being a Phantom Thief, Akira supposed. 

Ryuji was too occupied trying to push Morgana off the couch to notice Ann reaching over to grab the snacks and magazines from his lap. 

“I will never know why I continue to hang out with these two idiots…” she mumbled under her breath as she sorted through the magazines on her lap. 

Her fingers sifted through the pile before pausing, and Akira felt his stomach lurch when she looked up and caught his eye with a grin. He knew that smile and he knew that nothing good ever came from it. 

She plucked the magazine from the pile and tossed it over to his perch on the bed. 

He eyed it warily, though a quick peek at the cover didn’t provide any clue as to why it got the signature Ann smile-of-doom. He slid his eyes back to her on the couch, her face the picture of perfect innocence and asked, “What’s this?” 

“A magazine.” 

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, eyes flicking back down to the magazine sitting innocently on his bed. He reached a tentative hand out, fingers brushing over the glossy cover page that boasted of the latest hot gossip being contained inside. 

He flinched when something smacked against the side of his head and fell to the bed with a soft thump. He tore his eyes away from the suspicious magazine to find a familiar box of candy, his hand rising to rub at his cheek where the box had made contact. 

“It’s just a magazine, Akira,” Ann said, “it’s not going to kill you.”

“No, but this flesh wound might,” he pouted as he pointed to his cheek. 

“You’ve gotten worse from Shadows.” She rolled her eyes at him, never one to fall for his theatrics. Instead she gave the magazine another pointed look, her eyebrows raising as if to say ‘ _ go on then’. _

Akira sighed, resigned to his fate, and grabbed the magazine Ann had thrown his way. It was a typical teen magazine, one he recognized as one of Ann’s favorites. Mostly because they had asked her to model for them once or twice, but it was also a popular choice among girls their age. It had everything from celebrity gossip and advice columns, to silly quizzes that he knew girls loved to take during their breaks in school. His ears still rang from the squeals of their excitement when they got the result they wanted. 

He’d never really had the chance to look through them, typically being too busy running around Tokyo picking things up for upcoming trips into palaces or Mementos. Or he was running favors for his confidants around the area. It was a rare treat to be able to find the time to just hang out with his friends and just do things normal teenagers did. 

Well, as normal as having a talking cat that was now chewing Ryuji out from the floor could be. 

He settled back into his bed, idly opening the packaging for the candy that had assaulted him and flipped through the first few pages of the magazine. 

The pages were brightly colored, large fonts displaying the titles of the articles detailing the latest gossip. There were little cut-ins for tips catered to the teenage girl or some quote from the latest hot new idol that everyone was raving about. He flipped over a few articles he wasn’t interested in and folded over a page with tips on ‘How to get your Prince Charming’, intent on studying it later to increase his own charm.

It might also help him win over a certain ‘prince’, but he quickly shook that thought from his mind. 

“Oh, and Akira,” Ann said nonchalantly. She didn’t look up from her magazine, but Akira could see the twitching the corners of her mouth as she tried to stifle a grin. “You can thank me for that magazine later, okay?” 

She popped a bright pink colored candy into her mouth, her eyes flicking up to flash him a quick wink before she turned her attention back to her own magazine. 

He scrunched his eyebrows with suspicion, looking from Ann to the magazine and back again. Yeah, she was definitely up to something. He studied her for a moment longer, hoping to glean some information from a subtle twitch of the lips or shoulders shaking in restrained laughter but she was giving him nothing. He sighed and shrugged off the cryptic comment to continue flipping through the glossy pages. 

Advertisements that promised a slew of unachievable transformations and targeted the insecurities of every person known to man and the latest talk about famous teen idols littered the pages. He scanned over a few ads that showed shocking before and after pictures, rolling his eyes at the overly retouched pictures and fake smiles before he found an article about the return of Risette. 

It wasn’t something he often brought up but he’d been a fan since she restarted her career a few years back, finding her upbeat personality charming in a way it never was before her break. Her smile in the picture that accompanied the short article looked much more sincere. He chuckled a bit— it was almost like she’d undergone some major change on her break. Almost like a change of heart, though he knew that they’d never encountered Risette’s shadow in the depths of Mementos. 

He scanned the article talking about her comeback and made a mental note to grab the poster that accompanied it to be displayed on his bedroom wall. He skipped a few more pages filled with borderline degrading advertisements and idle gossip about other famous celebrities he had no interest in. He was nearing the end of the magazine, wondering what in the world he’d have to thank Ann for— she didn’t know about his quiet enjoyment of Risette, afterall— before he came across a very familiar face. 

And suddenly Ann’s cryptic comment was beginning to make sense. 

Staring back at him was the smiling, stunning, too-damn-attractive-it-was-detrimental-to-Akira’s-health face of Goro Akechi— and  _ damn  _ him for being so photogenic. 

The bold headline at the top of the page boasted of an exclusive one-on-one interview with the famous detective prince that was stealing hearts across Tokyo. Akira found himself gripping the glossy pages of the magazine just a bit tighter and cursing at the sharp eyes that somehow managed to entrance him even in print. 

What the hell was Akechi even doing, accepting an interview with a trashy teen magazine like this? Akira wasn’t well versed in the intricacies of magazines whose main target audience was teenage girls, but he knew that they weren’t exactly interested in detective work or crime solving. What was this interview even about? His skin care routine? He did always seem to have a perfectly airbrushed face, but that couldn’t be it, right? Maybe it was about his love life, or what kind of girl he was interested in, or his idea of a perfect date— that was what these magazines usually covered, right? 

He felt himself bite down on his lip at the thought. Magazines like this were all about gossip, boys and love, so it wouldn’t be far off to interview a young, attractive man like Akechi about that sort of topic… right? 

He felt a surge of warmth in his chest at the idea of a glimpse inside Akechi’s desires. Maybe he could study it and use it to… no,  _ no,  _ do not continue with that thought. Why was he getting so worked up over this? He was acting like a lovestruck girl and— shit maybe that wasn’t too far off from the truth. 

Akira took a deep breath, attempting to calm his stuttering heart when he caught Ann’s eye and flushed at her knowing grin. Damn her and her ability to see straight through to his heart and damn  _ him  _ for not being more cautious after being thrown the Ann smile-of-doom. He should have known that some sort of torture over his love life— or lack thereof— was coming. 

It wasn’t like he was  _ trying  _ to keep his… interest in Akechi a secret. He just wasn’t keen on advertising it to anyone— in fact, he’d rather let it live and fester and die inside him without anyone being the wiser, but alas, the world just loved to fuck with him. He didn’t even want the rest of the Phantom Thieves to know about it. Ryuji already made it very well known he didn’t like him, and he had a feeling the rest of the Thieves wouldn’t approve of his choice in men. But Ann— Ann was a romantic at heart and somehow figured it out and accepted it a long time ago. 

He was grateful for that. Just knowing he had her quiet support was more than he ever could have hoped for. Though, looking at the full page poster of a smiling Goro Akechi that was on the next page beside the article, he supposed that he could be just a bit more grateful to her. 

He  _ did  _ have to thank her for the magazine, afterall. 

His eyes flicked back to the magazine in his hand, getting lost in the slight flush on Akechi’s cheeks and the small dimple that accompanied his smile. He really had no right to be this attractive. 

The curiosity was killing him though, of what a magazine like this could possibly get out of interviewing a detective like Akechi, so he eased his harsh grip— partly to try and keep the poster in pristine condition, for no particular reason, of course— and snuggled further into his bed.

While he knew he could power through reading the interview with his amazing, awe inspiring speed reading techniques to see if Akechi happened to drop any major juicy details that could aid the Thieves and then move on from the article because  _ no he wasn’t interested like that _ , he wanted to take his time going through the article. It wasn’t everyday that Akechi agreed to do an interview— especially not an interview in a  _ teen magazine,  _ of all things— he’d be crazy to pass up the opportunity. 

It was definitely all for the betterment of the Phantom Thieves, nothing more and nothing less. 

He skipped past the bold headline hyping up the article, rolling his eyes at the buzzwords thrown in meant to entice the young teenage girl— pointedly ignoring the fact that he is, indeed, sitting here pouring over the words and googoo eyeing the pictures that went along with the article just as intended. 

But this is all tactical. Nothing to do with the way his heart skips a beat when he sees Akechi or how his palms sweat when his phone buzzes with a message from the detective prince himself. No  _ no—  _ this is purely… gathering information.

It started off fairly standard for an interview, introducing the audience to the detective prince, the beautiful, frustrating enigma that is Goro Akechi by giving a sort of background of who he is and what he does. Basic questions like “ _ what’s it like to work on exciting cases? _ ” and “ _ how did you get into detective work? _ ” to which Akechi gave the expected answers, a little too  blasé  to spark much intrigue or scrutiny. It was almost inspiring how easily he could dance around questions to give just the bare minimum of information and yet make you feel as though you were given the world. Akira skimmed the pleasantries passed back and forth between the two, rolling his eyes at the ‘jokes’ Akechi spattered in or chuckling under his breath at the commentary of the interviewer remarking how wondrous Akechi’s life is. 

He was almost a little shocked that the topic of the Phantom Thieves didn’t come up in this part of the interview. While he wasn’t so keen on the fame they’d been finding as, say, Ryuji was, he knew that it was a fairly hot topic these days. The Thieves were something that teenagers were interested in— all the comments on the Phansite pointed to that, at least— and something Akechi was very well spoken about. In reality, it was for the best that the topic of the Phantom Thieves stayed out of Akechi’s mouth, but he couldn’t help but feel a little put out about not even being mentioned. 

It had nothing to do with the fact that Akira liked the thought of being on Akechi’s mind, regardless of if the detective knew it was him or not, of course. 

Akira sighed, mentally slapping himself upside the head for even allowing himself to think that. The Phantom Thieves mixed with Akechi was a bad idea, and there was no use imagining it any other way. 

What he could imagine, though, was Akechi’s face when the interviewer suddenly switched topics from the standard detective interview questions to the kind of questions he more or less expected from a magazine whose target demographic don’t much care for ‘laying down the law’ so much as they care for laying down the detective, so to speak. 

He could see it now. Akechi perched across from the interviewer, his smile bright and charming as usual, answering the interviewers questions with relative ease. The interviewer would smile then— a blinding white smile, full of teeth and sharp edges, ready to devour him for the entertainment of her target audience— only because she would know that he was now far too comfortable with this line of questioning. A young, attractive man letting his guard down around too familiar questions— it was the perfect time for a hunter to pounce. 

The interviewer would lean in close, all calculated to draw him in, enticing Akechi into their trap. And  _ of course  _ he’d play along— it’s only the most gentlemanly, detective-prince-like thing to do. 

And then  _ boom _ , they’d hit him with the question. 

“ _ So, Akechi-kun, everyone knows you are Tokyo’s hottest detective, _ ” Akira rolled his eyes at the flattery, an obvious setup to get him to further lower his guard. Akechi was smart, but Akira could practically see the grin that would have come across Akechi’s face then. Smug, because he must know that to be the truth, as much as Akira was loath to admit that. 

“ _ That’s why everyone is wondering: does Tokyo’s finest detective have a special someone? _ ” 

Akira had to stifle a giggle at the image his mind provided. The way Akechi’s face would morph from cocky smirk to slack jawed surprise at the shift in questioning. He probably stared at the interviewer in abject horror, because this was certainly a question he couldn’t have prepared for. Akira liked to imagine that his cheeks were painted in a soft red or that he may have even stuttered a bit, and cursed the fact that he hadn’t been there to witness Goro Akechi himself being caught off guard by a question. 

Akechi’s response to the question, however, was not what Akira had expected. 

“ _ W-well, I can’t say for certain that I am special to them but, there is…”  _ the interviewer noted that he paused and cleared his throat, looking away from her with a little bit of a flush across his face. Akira had never been more indebted to anyone than he was at that moment to the interviewer for capturing all the little details of Akechi’s reactions. “ _ That is to say that, no, I don’t happen to have a special someone at this point in time.” _

He had to admit, though, that he was interested in Akechi’s response. From what he knew of Akechi, there  _ wasn’t _ a special someone. 

Throughout all the time Akira had known him, the man had never once spoken of someone special, never mentioned anything that could be considered a date, and never even showed remote interest in the dating scene. It would be quite strange if, after all this time of talking with him and meeting up to hang out with him, he’d failed to let anything slip. If he had, Akira was sure he’d have caught on to it. Akechi’s dating life was an elusive topic, afterall, and Akira was always looking for information on the man. 

For research purposes. 

Besides that, Akechi was always working. Whether he was at the office, doing some ‘investigative research’, which really just translated to brooding around Tokyo, or he was at his apartment and knee deep in paperwork. He’d mentioned off-handedly one day that Akira was just about the only person he ever saw outside of work. 

Perhaps it was someone he worked with then. Someone who had managed to catch Akechi’s attention enough for him to consider them special. 

Akira huffed to himself and made a mental note to slip it into conversation the next time he saw Akechi. On the down low, so that he wouldn’t know that Akira spent his free time reading teen magazines that interviewed good looking detectives about their dating life. 

In any case, it was all the more reason to find excuses to pull Akechi away from his work. He’d always been a workaholic anyways, it’d do him good to find time to spend doing something fun. Like him. He was fun. 

Akechi could totally do him—

Nevermind. 

Akira sighed and ran a hand through his perpetually shaggy hair and reminded himself to get a grip. Just this one question had him reeling, and by the looks of things, he still had another page of interview to read. If he was going to make it out alive, he had to calm himself down. 

He breathed in deep, shook his head, and continued on. 

_ “Ah, but Akechi-kun, it certainly seems like there is someone of interest on your mind. Judging by your reaction, at least.”  _

Akira could only imagine the way the interviewer would smirk, knowing that they had gotten Akechi to confess something the typically tightlipped detective would never let slip. 

_ “Well, there are certainly quite a number of interesting people in Tokyo,” Akechi laughed, “in anycase, I assure you, there is simply no time for pursuing such interests— if there are any, hypothetically speaking.”  _

Akira rolled his eyes at that. Leave it to Akechi to backpedal and find a perfect response to brush off questions he doesn’t want to answer. 

_ Hypothetically speaking, my ass.  _

Unfortunately for Akechi, this interviewer wasn’t one to be deterred. She had a mob of teenage girls— and at least  _ one _ teenage boy— to please, afterall. 

_ “Let’s say, hypothetically speaking of course, you  _ did  _ have time to pursue such interests,”  _ Akira couldn't help the snort that came from his throat. Serves Akechi right to have his pacifying words thrown back at him. He was too caught up in his mirth that he hardly noticed Ann glance up with a twinkle in her eye at the sound.  _ “I think everyone is dying to know what a detective prince’s idea of a perfect date would be.” _

Akechi’s perfect date, huh? Before Akira had gotten to know Akechi, he might have said the detective would have picked something safe and typical. Maybe something like dinner and a movie or a walk in the park. But now that he knew him better, Akira thought that Akechi’s perfect date would be quite different from what outsiders may think. 

Akechi was quirky, in his own, strange way. While he was certainly a perfect gentleman in front of the cameras, when he was with Akira he took on a much softer, human-like way of existing. He had flaws. Akira had seen his competitive side back when they first played a game of pool together. He’d seen him with his hair mussed and sharp eyes hidden behind glasses while eating at a little cafe, seen him in his element, in dim lighting surrounded by relaxing music in a jazz club, his nerdy side playing arcade shooting games and seen him bare it all— literally and figuratively— in a bathhouse late in the night. 

A typical date would be  _ fine—  _ but now that Akira knew Akechi was so, so much more than by the book and boring, he just couldn’t see that being  _ enough.  _

All that to say that Akira was very,  _ very,  _ interested in what Akechi’s answer would be. 

_ “That is… quite a difficult question to answer,”  _ the interviewer noted that Akechi had his fingers resting on his chin, in a gesture that Akira knew he did when he was deep in thought. He didn’t take the time to note it was strange Akechi was taking such a trivial question so seriously— he was far too invested in reading on to what the man had to say. 

_ “I think for the most part it would depend on the company. I’d try to base our outing around their interests. If my partner were enjoying themselves, I’m sure that happiness would follow through to me.” _

It was a perfect response. Practically oozing selflessness befitting a ‘prince’. Akechi could have stopped his answer there and left the girls swooning, but to Akira’s surprise, he continued on. 

_ “Though of course, with the right person, I suppose any date could be considered ‘perfect’. Even something as trivial as, say, eating cake at a cafe or playing pool in a local bar.”  _

Akira took pause. Those were… oddly specific dates, weren’t they?

_ “I suppose then, if trivial outings such as those were perfect, I’d consider taking them to the place that is special to me. I don’t often share such personal things with anyone, so I suppose that it would be my way of showing them I truly enjoyed our time together and that I care for them quite deeply.”  _

A special place. 

Like… a jazz club, perhaps? 

Akira shook his head. It couldn’t possibly be the Jazz Jin he was talking about— not with the way Akechi was describing it. That’d mean that Akechi taking him there  _ meant  _ something and there was just… no possible way it could mean that, right? 

But… Akechi did say that it was a special place to him. 

And that he’d never taken anyone else there before. 

And that they had a special connection. 

No.  _ No.  _

Akechi had to have other special places. He was a man of many interests and a man of mystery. There was no point in reading into his words like this. It just couldn’t mean what Akira desperately wanted it to mean. 

With his heart pounding in his chest and his hands desperately clutching the glossy pages, he read on. 

_ “But… none of that really answered your question, did it? I suppose I got a little off topic there in my musings, my apologies.”  _ Akechi apparently laughed then, the interviewer noting that he was rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

_ Strange,  _ Akira thought, that Akechi would get so off-topic and show so much of himself to a stranger. Either this teen magazine journalist was amazing at her job and getting celebrities to crack or this line of questioning managed to get under Akechi’s skin and throw him off his game. 

Either way, it was nothing short of a miracle and Akira could only thank the Gods for blessing him with this magazine. 

_ “What my perfect date is…”  _ Akira felt his breath hitch in anticipation. 

The interviewer noted that he sighed then, a warm smile on his face as he stared off distantly, as if he were recalling a memory. 

_ “Well, I have to say that I’d want it to be somewhere with atmosphere. Somewhere you could get away from the loudness of Tokyo and find yourself in almost an entirely different world. A place that is tranquil and beautiful, yet still stimulating enough that you could spend hours wandering and taking in the sights with someone special at your side.”  _

_ “That sounds beautiful, Akechi-kun. Is there any place you have in mind that fits that description?” _

_ “Ah, I do…”  _ Akechi looked down at the table, apparently avoiding the eyes of the interviewer.  _ “I find myself quite taken with the aquarium. It certainly has the atmosphere I imagined. The low lighting bathing everything in a soft blue hue from the water, beautiful and exotic creatures floating by gracefully. Everything is so beautiful, it's almost as if you are in another world. It’s quiet, too. Only hushed whispers of other guests and the faint sound of water bubbling and sloshing. I have heard it is quite a popular date spot, so I suppose it’s only fitting that I am so taken with it.” _

Akira felt like the room was spinning. He read and reread the paragraph until he could recite the words back with perfect memory, and yet he still couldn’t wrap his mind around what the words  _ meant.  _

The two of them had just gone to the aquarium together a few weeks prior. It had been at Akechi’s suggestion, and while it was a fairly famous date spot, Akira hadn’t allowed himself to even think of that fun fact when he’d accepted his invitation. 

It was just an outing between two guys. Friends— if he even allowed himself to think of Akechi as that. Going out as friends was a dangerous thought. Going out as a  _ date  _ was absolutely treacherous. 

And yet after reading this, he found himself inching out further onto that limb, grasping for the hope that was just out of his reach. 

“ _ I’d imagine that taking someone there would be quite the enchanting time. I’m certain that I would get lost in the beauty of the scenery and my company, and I’d want to spend the rest of my days there staring at the way the light reflects off their glasses—”  _

Akira sucked in a harsh breath. His eyes— wide behind his wide framed  _ glasses _ — honed in on the incriminating word. One little word that made his heart nearly stop beating. 

It was damning. That just couldn’t be explained away as a coincidence or a slip of the tongue… right?

Right?

_ “— and the tanks. My only wish is that I would have enough money to rent out the place for the night, so that my date and I could enjoy the scenery without any interruptions.”  _

Akira— not being quite over the shock from the glasses comment— actually choked on the air in his lungs. 

There was no way. Absolutely no way in  _ hell  _ that this could be a coincidence anymore. 

_ No interruptions?  _ By interruptions he surely had to mean a dark haired journalist by the name of Ichiko Ohya who just so happened to crash their dat—  _ outing  _ at the aquarium. 

He hadn’t thought of it much then, but maybe Akechi  _ did  _ seem a little annoyed when she walked over to them and started up a conversation. He chalked it up to Akechi being a little prickly with strangers, though if he had meant for that to be a… a date then— 

Well. Then it made a little more sense. 

_ “Ah, it must be tough taking a girl out when you are so well known around Tokyo, huh, Akechi-kun?” _

_ “Oh, well… it is quite, um,  _ flattering  _ when I get recognized but that certainly can make it… difficult.”  _

If Akira wasn’t too busy wheezing on his own spit, he’d laugh at how awkward Akechi’s response to that was. 

Akira quickly skimmed the rest of the interview now that he noticed he was near the end of the page. The interviewer only laughed at Akechi’s awkward response and thanked him for his time, making sure to comment about how this will “ _ allow all the girls a better chance at catching him as their prince charming”.  _

Akira dropped the magazine onto his bed, chest still heaving from his coughing fit, and fell face first into his pillow. 

That was… a lot to take in.  _ Too  _ much to take in, if his lungs had any say in it. 

Unless he was going absolutely crazy— which, with the way his life had been going, it was an actual possibility— there was no way that Akechi hadn’t been alluding to all the times they’ve spent together as being ‘perfect dates’. The ‘trivial’ ones, eating cake and playing pool could be brushed aside. Even the mention of showing his special someone somewhere that is special to him could be explained away. But the aquarium? The glasses? No interruptions? Akira’s life was full of strange circumstances ever since he’d come to Tokyo, but he was absolutely certain that  _ this  _ was something else entirely. 

Maybe the Gods or whatever was out there was finally starting to take pity on him and decided to give him this one good thing. 

That is, of course, unless this really  _ is  _ all one big, strange coincidence and Akira’s life is just a mess and the Gods or whatever really do hate him. 

He rolled himself over onto his back, hand outstretched and blindly grasping around his sheets until he came in contact with the glossy paper of the magazine. 

He picked it up and brought it up to eye level, holding it above his face with his arms outstretched. 

It was still open to the interview, Akechi’s all too handsome face still smiling that perfect smile that made him feel all messy inside. He skimmed over the paragraphs of the interview again, heart skipping a beat at each mention of all too specific dates. He almost pinched himself when he reread Akechi talking about the aquarium, just to make sure it wasn’t a dream and he wasn’t hallucinating or anything else that could make it make sense. 

But no, he was very much awake, and— from what he could tell— he was not hallucinating. This was all very much real and all a little too much for his heart to handle. 

He sighed, trying to relax himself enough so that his heart didn’t feel like it was ready to burst from his chest and bounce around his room. He was too busy focusing on slowing his breathing down; he hardly noticed his fingers slipping off the glossy pages until the magazine was landing with an audible slap onto his face. 

“Dude, you okay over there?” Ryuji’s voice asked. Akira only let out a muffled groan from behind the magazine on his face, hoping it signified the fact that yes, he was okay from being slapped in the face via magazine, but he was not okay from the fact that his life was a series of unfortunate events and this might just be the most unfortunate one yet. 

He felt his bed shift only slightly, and that was all the warning he got before a paw batted at the magazine until it slid off his face and landed on the bed beside his head. 

“What’s up with you?” Morgana asked, eyeing the magazine with a critical gaze. “Was there an article about the Phantom Thieves in there?” 

“Ooh, the Phantom Thieves making it into a teen magazine? I need to see this.” Ryuji said, practically right next to his ear. He jumped when a hand shot out to grab the magazine lying next to his head. 

Warning bells sounded in his head. He knew that Ryuji and Morgana didn’t particularly like Akechi, both being quite vocal about their distaste, and he knew the second Ryuji would see him he’d start to make comments. More than likely negative ones, and Akira just wasn’t equipped to deal with that today— especially not when he was still reeling himself from reading the interview. 

He shot up, hand reaching out in an attempt to wrestle the magazine away from him, but Ryuji was already walking away and flipping through it. 

“Man, these magazines are all about dumb advertisements, aren’t they? I’ve flipped past like, twenty already.” Ryuji made an annoyed grunt and started to flip the pages more aggressively. 

“Be careful with that!” Ann said from her place on the couch. She glared at Ryuji, who only paused a moment to stick his tongue out at her, before she caught Akira’s eye with a slight apology to her eyes. 

At least she tried. 

“ _ Maybe  _ you missed it already.” Morgana said, moving off Akira’s bed to jump up onto Ryuji’s shoulder in order to look at the magazine with him. He pushed a paw to his head, batting his ear in a way that he knew pissed Ryuji off. 

“Oh, piss off you stupid cat,” Morgana made an offended meow and swiped more aggressively at his ear. Akira just sat and watched yet another unfortunate event play out in front of his eyes, knowing well enough that one doesn’t get in between a Ryuji and Morgana argument unless they wanted a few cat scratches of their own. 

“I am  _ not  _ a— hey, isn’t that Akechi?” 

And suddenly, Akira wished that his bed would open up and swallow him whole. 

“Oh man, that bastard better not be shit talking the Phantom Thieves here too,” Ryuji groaned, “he already spent enough time playing all high and mighty on TV.” 

It was quiet for a moment while the two read over the interview. Akira could feel the dread creep up from the tips of his toes all the way up his legs, pooling in his gut like a lead balloon. The silence stretched on, the balloon getting heavier and he wished for the first time ever that they would just say something because the silence was  _ dreadful. _

And then the silence left with a whoosh as the two doubled over laughing and suddenly Akira wished he could go back in time and just enjoy the peace and quiet over the raucous laughter of his friends. 

“What the actual hell was that?” Ryuji laughed, his shoulders bouncing so much that Morgana nearly fell off them twice. “Do-do girls  _ really  _ read this shit?” 

He folded the magazine at the spine, rolling the other half of the magazine underneath it so he could keep his page while wiping his eyes with his other hand. 

“I mean, really, who would want to go out with  _ Akechi  _ of all people?” 

Akira could feel Ann’s eyes on him, but he chose to ignore it in favor of slamming his head into his pillow and sinking further into his bed. 

“And what about those dates?” Morgana asked, finally having gotten off Ryuji’s shoulders and was now stretched out on the floor. “I feel bad for the poor girl he takes out. They were so lame! When I take Lady Ann out, I will definitely not be going to  _ him  _ for advice.” 

If he wasn’t wallowing in his own despair, he might have felt a little offended by that. For one, he wasn’t a girl and two, he quite enjoyed their dates—  _ outings _ , thank you very much. 

Luckily for him, Ann was there and she was a beautiful, perfect lifesaver. She got up from her spot, marched over to Ryuji and plucked the magazine from his hand. While he squawked at her, she fixed Morgana with a death stare and the laughter finally dissipated until tense silence was left in its wake. 

“If you two can’t behave, why don’t you go and refill my snack supply!” She gestured over to the table, where half a dozen snack wrappers were littered across the surface. 

“Why should I? It ain't my fault you ate them all—” 

Ryuji didn’t get to finish his sentence. Ann already leaned down to scoop Morgana up, him yelping in protest before she shoved him into Ryuji’s chest, turned them around and very nearly sent them tumbling down the stairs. 

“And don’t come back until you’ve doubled what I just had!”

Akira could hear the two of them grumbling about how unfair it was that they were being sent out until he could hear the bell above the door ding, signaling their departure from Leblanc. 

He felt the bed dip and a comforting hand on his back and he let out another muffled groan into his pillow. 

“Hey, you know that they’re just being assholes because he’s against the Phantom Thieves, right?” 

He grunted in response. 

There was a pause, her hand started to draw shapes along the expanse of his back in a way that she found comforted him when he was stressed a few months ago. 

“So obviously you know that he had to have been talking about you,” her finger trailed up his spine in a zigzag pattern, stopping right at the base of his neck before traveling to one shoulder to draw lazy figure eights. “I don’t think he ever hangs out with anyone else regardless, but they seem to match everything you’ve done with him, from what you told me.” 

He really didn’t want to talk about this, with the way his heart was still a frenzied mess, but somehow he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to get out of it. She was the one who gave him the magazine afterall. She had to have known what was inside. 

In a way, he regretted telling her about their meetups. It was nice at the time, since she was the only one who would accept the fact that he was ‘colluding with an enemy’, but now she knew too much and was able to figure out too much and it was just…  _ too much.  _

Akira sighed, finally pushing himself up so he could face her, though he mourned the loss of the comforting patterns she was tracing along his back. 

“I don’t know, Ann,” he sighed, one hand nervously twirling a piece of his hair around a finger. “It’s not like cake at a cafe and playing pool is all that uncommon.” 

Ann fixed him with a stare that he knew meant she could see straight through his bullshit, but he pointedly ignored it in favor of looking at a very interesting loose thread on his sheets. 

“I think this is as much of a sign as you’re going to get from him that he might be interested in you too,” she said, “I mean, he was thinking of you so much that when she asked him if he had someone special he let it slip he might—” 

“You don’t know if he was thinking about  _ me.”  _

“Oh shut it Akira, yes I do. And you do too.” She rolled her eyes at him, tossing the magazine back onto his lap. Akechi’s face stared up at him, almost like he was mocking the whole situation. It’d be about right, with how Akira’s life tended to go. 

“He described all of your dates. And before you say ‘it could be a coincidence’, the entire aquarium scenario he cooked up? A liiiitle too on the nose with what happened at  _ your  _ aquarium date with him, don’t you think?” 

Yeah, he really regretted telling her the entire recap of what happened that day. 

“I’m just saying, Akira, it’s too much to be a coincidence.” 

She reached out and patted his leg, her eyes wide and full of understanding and sympathy and every emotion he really needed right now to reassure him that maybe there was a chance after all. 

“And,” she got up and waltzed over to the stairs, throwing him a sly grin over her shoulder before she began her descent. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you try the quiz on page 69?” 

He watched her leave him, the magazine sitting heavily in his lap. He didn’t hear the bell ring, so he knew she was just downstairs— likely to give him privacy to do this… quiz or whatever it was. 

He sighed, resigned because he knew she’d probably be coming up here in a few minutes to make sure he did what she told him to do, and flipped to the page to find a brightly colored quiz titled ‘Who is Your Perfect Celebrity Boyfriend?’. 

It was everything he loved about teen magazines. Every time he could, he took the quizzes just to see his results and they were usually hilarious, but somehow scarily accurate. 

The questions for this quiz were ridiculous but somehow made sense in the context of picking out a perfect celeb boyfriend and despite his lingering sense of dread, he took it as honestly as he could. 

So of course when he flipped to the page to get his results, only to see ‘Your perfect boyfriend is the Detective Prince, Goro Akechi!’, he promptly threw the magazine away and screamed into his pillow, while Ann laughed in the distance. 

* * *

Akira swiped the damp cloth over the counter of the bar for what felt like the hundredth time that evening as he watched an elderly couple leave Leblanc, the door chiming to alert him of their departure. He sighed and slumped over the counter once they were out of sight, flinging the cloth over his shoulder and into the sink. It landed in the foamy water with a wet plop. 

It had been five days since what has been lovingly dubbed ‘the magazine fiasco’ in Akira’s heart. Or, more accurately, the day Akira lost his mind over a dumb interview with a dumb detective about special someones and perfect dates that he may or may not have been on with said dumb detective.

He let his upper half rest entirely on the bar, groaning irritably as he shifted his weight to find a comfortable position. 

It would have been one thing, if he could just obsess over the magazine and the interview and the implications of it all in peace, but really, has life ever been that simple for him?

No. The answer is no. 

If he wasn’t getting all too knowing stares and little, jabbing comments that hit a little too close to his heart from Ann, he was busy trying to keep Ryuji’s mouth shut about the interview and ensure that Morgana didn’t get his sneaky little paws on the sacred text.

And, by the sacred text, he meant the magazine that was currently rolled into his pants pocket to be kept safe at his side at all times of the day.

He hadn’t planned on bringing it with him everywhere he went, but when he’d come home one night to Morgana snooping through all of his hidey holes, he knew that it was no longer safe for his most prized possession. If something happened to the magazine, he couldn’t get another. Magazines like that swapped out quite frequently, and his issue was no longer on the shelves of any convenience store. 

He may or may not have checked them all out the day after the incident— not for any particular  _ reason _ , of course, just as… insurance.

And though he knew internet archives existed, it just wouldn’t be the same as having the physical copy in his hands. He had already mourned the fact that he had to roll it to make it fit in his pocket, making the pages curl at the edges, but it was a small price to pay for the safety of the magazine. 

Besides, Akira had found it quite nice to have the constant reminder that he, in fact, did  _ not  _ dream up the whole situation tucked safely in his back pocket for him to take out and look at anytime of the day. He often found himself pulling it out with any free time he had. 

When he was waiting for the train and tired of people watching, he’d lean against the wall and spend some time rereading the interview. He’d read the article so many times he swore he could repeat it word for word. But even still, the words contained inside made his heart stutter and his palms sweaty. Or, when he was in the middle of a particularly boring lecture, and he would take it out and position it at the side of his desk, just so he could see the blinding smile that, now that he looked closer at it, seemed to glisten and reflect the light in a way that made his lips look all the more appealing. And lately, he’d been taking it out at night when he was alone with his thoughts and Morgana was sleeping at his feet. And he’d just… stare. Rub at his eyes and blink a few too many times, when the words remained the same as they were five days ago and the million other times he’d read it, he’d smile and tuck it beneath his pillow, hand resting delicately on the glossy pages.

It was almost ridiculous. Here he was, sleeping with the magazine under his pillow like he was a child waiting for the tooth fairy to come and magically turn a tooth into a coin. Except the tooth was a dumb magazine and the coin was Goro Akechi and instead of waking up excited about getting a small bit richer, he’d wake up with a handsome man in his arms. 

It was ridiculous, but it was certainly a nice thought. 

He heaved a long sigh, breath washing out of his lungs in an attempt to carry out the lingering butterflies and ridiculous feelings that were lodged there. This whole magazine interview exposing a potential chance that Goro Akechi might like him more than he thought business was frying his brain. 

He shifted his position so that he was propped up on his elbows with his head in his hands. All these thoughts about the interview and Akechi himself were starting to get to him. He could practically feel the magazine burning a hole in the pocket of his jeans, his hands itching for the familiar feel of glossy printed pages. 

He took a glance at the door. The sky outside was beginning to darken, the streets of Yongen-Jaya becoming quiet and still as the day's activities were coming to a close. It wasn’t likely that Leblanc would attract another customer tonight. The regulars had already come and gone, and the only one who had a track record for dropping by so late in the day was… 

Well, it wasn’t likely that  _ he’d  _ drop by tonight of all nights, right?

Right. 

His hands automatically went to his back, finding the loop of the apron. His fingers worked on autopilot, untying the knot and lifting it off his chest. He leaned over to hook it onto the peg that Sojiro had set up for him— a gesture that probably meant more to him than the man realized— just as the door chimed, signaling the arrival of another patron. 

He almost screamed right then and there. 

Of all the days for Leblanc to  _ actually  _ have customers…

Akira took a second to compose himself from his sudden urge to go apeshit on the unlucky person who just walked in. He finally released his breath in a huff, turning towards the door with a greeting playing at his lips until he looked up and—

Oh. 

_ Think of the handsome devil and he shall appear _ , Akira thought. 

_ So much for ‘not likely he’d drop by tonight’.  _ Really, Akira should have known better than to tempt fate like that. 

Akechi was already seated in his usual spot, eyeing Akira with a raised brow. He looked from his face— which was more than likely betraying his shock that yes, the world really did hate him as much as he thought it did— to where his hands were still clutched in the fabric of his apron. 

“Oh, my apologies,” he said, “were you closing early tonight?” 

He tilted his head while he asked this, the fringe of his shiny and  _ oh-so-soft-looking _ hair falling into his eyes in a way that made Akira weak in the knees. 

“Oh…” Akira mentally kicked himself, trying to get his brain to reboot. “...uh, no?” 

_ Great response, Akira. Really, so eloquent.  _

But Akechi wasn’t deterred by his lack of functioning brain cells and instead shot him a bright smile. It was fairly reminiscent of the smile he’d had in the poster that was  _ totally  _ not hanging above his bed in his room at this very moment.

“That’s good. I’ve been really looking forward to coming here all day.” He paused a moment, and Akira could swear he saw a light flush beginning to color the tips of his ears. “For the coffee, of course.” 

Akira snorted, “Right, for the  _ coffee.”  _

“I suppose the company isn’t too bad, either.” He eyed Akira and smirked. “Sojiro  _ is  _ here, isn’t he?” 

Akira gasped in mock offense. “And here I thought you were about to go soft on me, detective.” 

“I’m  _ never  _ soft around you—” Akira choked on his breath and Akechi’s eyes widened as he replayed what he said, hands flailing as he backpedaled. “I-I mean, that’s not— I meant that I—” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just… get me a coffee. It’s been a long night.” 

He said it with a sigh, and Akira knew Akechi well enough that he could hear the strain in his voice, and see the bags under his eyes and knew that he was telling the truth. 

So Akira decided that, at least for now, he could be merciful on him and not tease him relentlessly about that little slip up. At least not until he had some coffee in him. 

His hands brought the apron back over his head, tying it up in the back. He stepped back behind the bar, hands already going to work on beginning the brew of coffee that he knew Akechi was most fond of. 

He worked in easy silence until he was setting down the cup in front of Akechi, who took it with a grateful smile. 

His eyes instinctively followed the cup up to Akechi’s lips, watching his throat bob with the first sip. 

Akechi set the cup back down with a satisfied sigh and a small smile. 

“I have to say, you have gotten quite a bit more skilled since the last time you made me a drink.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice.” He didn’t mention the fact that he only practiced brewing Akechi’s favorite blend when he was making coffee for trips into mementos. The rest of the thieves complained about how strong the blend was, but Akira found he was starting to acquire a taste for it. 

He turned around, reaching into the sink to find the soapy rag that he’d abandoned earlier. He was eager to have something to do with his hands so that he wouldn’t succumb to his urge to reach for the magazine or lean over the counter and run his hands through silky hair. 

“What were you reading?” 

He wrung the rag out over the sink, letting the excess water drip as he looked back at Akechi. He was resting his chin on his hand, the half full coffee cup sitting next to him as he gestured to where Akira stood. 

“Your pocket. Reading anything interesting?” 

Ah. That’s right. Akechi was an avid reader— it was one of the things they often talked about— he should have known he’d notice the curled magazine in his pocket and ask about it. 

But, that brought Akira to a predicament he hadn’t anticipated. Tell the truth and let Akechi know that he had seen the interview? But, the magazine was already five days out of print. Akechi was a smart man, he’d no doubt figure out that Akira had been carrying it with him everywhere like some love struck girl. 

He hadn’t even given much thought to approaching the subject with him, no matter how often Ann insisted he should. The chance that they were reading into things too much were too high, and he wasn’t about to risk losing the shaky friendship he had created with him. 

He’d much rather lie and tell him it was a Playboy magazine than the truth. It was a lot less embarrassing that way.

And he was just about to, opening his mouth to force the lie out, when Akechi suddenly got up and leaned over the counter, plucking the magazine from his pocket. 

Akira was too shocked to even make an attempt to grab it back from him before he could investigate it and find out that Akira was carting around a teen magazine like a fool. 

Akechi settled back into his chair, eyebrows lifting as he examined the cover. 

“Unmasked magazine?” To the untrained ear, his voice probably sounded normal, but Akira could hear the slight tremble to his tone. He fiddled with the pages nervously. “I… didn’t take you the type to read magazines like these.” 

The wet rag fell to the counter with a slap as Akira went to work cleaning up the few spills he’d made, both he and Akechi looking at it as if it were the most interesting thing in the room.

“Oh well…” he scrambled for a lie, one hand bunching up the wet rag while the other fiddled with a strand of hair. “...Ann, uh, Ann left it here!” 

Well, not technically a lie, but it sure made him sound less suspicious. 

He thought he saw Akechi relax out of the corner of his eye, if only slightly. 

“Ah, so you haven’t read it…?”

Akira faltered for only a second, but it was enough for Akechi to pick up on. 

His shoulders dropped, face falling into his hands as he muttered from between his fingers, “You did, didn’t you?”

He briefly entertained the idea of lying. It would be easy enough— just plaster on a fake smile and brush him off with a simple “nah, I get enough gossip in the halls of Shujin” but he knew, somehow, that he’d end up regretting letting this chance go. He hadn’t needed to find a way to bring it up casually. The opportunity to tease Akechi was presented to him on a golden platter and the unease he felt about broaching the topic was trumped by his need to snatch the chance before it scuttled away from him. 

He felt the smirk ease onto his face and the zap of excitement that washed through him was not unlike what he felt when he stepped into the metaverse donning a mask and a pair of bold red gloves. 

_ Showtime. _

Akira stretched out over the counter, lazy and catlike. He eyed Akechi like a cat stalking its prey, slowly inching closer without alerting him. Akechi’s face was still buried in his hands, and now that he was closer, he could see the way his ears were a soft shade of red. He smiled, charmed at the reaction he already managed to pull from Akechi. 

But, his guard was down and Akira used that as an opportunity to pounce. His hands shot out and plucked the magazine back from where it was lodged underneath Akechi’s elbow that was settled on the counter. The movement made Akechi pitch forward, a small squeak falling from his mouth. He looked up at Akira with a hint of mortification swirling in his eyes. 

_ Cute. _

“Hmm, why oh why is our lovely detective prince so worked up over a silly little teen magazine?” Akira asked with a far too innocent lilt to his voice. He smirked over at Akechi who was now watching him with a mix of horror, embarrassment and rage on his face. 

_ Perfect. _

He shook the magazine in the air, Akechi’s eyes flitting over to it with an intensity he hadn’t seen on his face before. 

“Akira, give me the magazine.”

“Whyyyy?” he sang, drawing out the word just to watch the twitch of Akechi’s brow. “What’s so bad about the magazine,  _ Goro _ ?” He heard the slight intake of breath and watched Akechi’s eyes widen— but they didn’t move from where Akira was holding the magazine just out of his reach. “Got something you want to hide from me?” 

“Akira, I  _ swear— _ ” 

Akira jumped away from the quick hand that shot out in an attempt to grab the magazine away from him. He thanked his sharpened reflexes from months spent fighting shadows, otherwise his fun would have ended far too early. 

“Because  _ I  _ remember reading something preeetty interesting in this baby,” he said, slapping the magazine cover with one hand. 

“Akira, listen, I—”

“There was this whole article about” —Akechi’s eyes squeezed shut, like he was preparing to be slapped— “the famous idol Risette! I’m a pretty big fan, you know.” 

Akechi’s eyes flew open, and they were molten— smouldering with intense emotions, and—  _ god he is gorgeous _ .

“Dammit, Akira,” Akechi sighed. He slumped into his chair, fixing him in place with his eyes. A moment of silence passed between them, each studying the other's face. 

Akira felt a tingling twist of emotion swell in his chest. His heart was pounding, from anticipation for the words on Akechi’s tongue, lingering excitement from the way he was able to get underneath Akechi’s skin, and the faint fear and apprehension he still had for where this whole conversation was going. 

“I know you had to see it. Cut the crap already.” 

His words were sharp, biting and to the point. But somehow, they were also vulnerable and worried— like he didn’t know quite what to say. 

And that’s when Akira knew the gig was up. Whether he was ready for this conversation or not, it was going to happen. 

_ God give me strength. _

Akira licked his lips absently, coming back to the counter and setting the magazine between the two. There was a finality to the action that made Akira suck in a quiet breath before speaking. 

“I… yeah. Okay.” 

His hands moved on their own, opening the magazine and shuffling the pages mechanically, effortlessly finding the familiar page. The Akechi in the magazine was smiling at him from below with the same dazzling smile that’s occupied his mind for the past few days, but right now his focus was solely on the real Akechi in front of him. 

But Akechi’s focus was on the magazine, staring down at his own face with a look of disgust. It was almost amusing, the difference between the expressions. One smiling, picture perfect and charming, but somehow lacking compared to the scowling, dour man sitting across from him now. 

Akira found that he vastly preferred the latter. 

He felt his cheeks burn with that thought. Thankfully Akechi was too busy glaring at his own face to really take notice. 

“Out of all the people in Tokyo who could have picked up that magazine, it just had to be you.”

Akira had wanted to point out it was technically Ann who picked up the magazine. Sure she got it with the intent of giving it to him, but that could open up to questions that Akira wasn’t ready to answer.

So he did what he did best. Deflect and pretend he wasn’t slowly going crazy on the inside. 

“Out of all the people in Tokyo to be interviewed by a teen magazine, it just had to be you.” 

Akechi’s eyes flicked away from the magazine for just a moment. He shot a glare at Akira, though it wasn’t quite as hard and piercing as it usually was. 

“So,” Akira drawled, finger running down the length of the article to tap at the paragraph where the interview started to get interesting. Akechi’s eyes were following closely after it, chasing it like a lead on a case. It made Akira’s heart stumble in its rhythm. “Who in Tokyo managed to catch the eye of the illustrious detective prince?” 

Akechi huffed— a sour, bitter sound and crossed his hands over his chest protectively. 

“You’re just as bad as that damned interviewer,” he sighed and shook his head. He paused, sat up straighter, on edge, and leveled his gaze on Akira. “There  _ is not, nor ever will be,  _ a ‘special someone’.” He stared at him intently, like he was trying to convey some sort of message to him. Probably something along the lines of ‘don’t ever speak to me about this again or I’ll rip your tongue out and feed it to you’, but Akira was never known for having a sense of self preservation. 

“Ah, you can’t lie to me,  _ Goro,”  _ Akira said. Akechi’s hands clenched a bit tighter. He tapped the magazine print. “Your little slip up was caught and immortalized here forever.” 

“I—” Akechi started, faltered, then chose to stare at his abandoned coffee cup. His voice was softer when he said, “I just wasn’t prepared for a question like that.” 

“I mean, it  _ is  _ a teen magazine. That’s… a fairly standard question.” 

“Is it?” Akechi asked, monotonous and dry. 

Akira shrugged. “It is.” 

Akechi looked at him warily. “Well, wouldn’t that have been nice to know.” 

A beat of silence passed. 

“Why’d you say yes?” Akira asked. Akechi hummed with a raised brow. “To the interview, I mean. Why’d you agree?” 

Akechi seemed to deflate a little more at the question. A pink flash of tongue swept over his lips as he formed his response.

“I didn’t recognize the name when I was asked. The woman who interviewed me cornered me at a studio right after I was finished recording for a talk show. She said her name and the magazine so fast I didn’t hear her. She was loud too, so everyone was looking at me and I just couldn’t refuse. She knew what she was doing.” He sighed and laughed bitterly. “I convinced myself no one ever read that trash once I figured it out but, well,” he gestured to Akira and the magazine that was still sitting on the counter between them. “You proved me wrong there.” 

“What can I say?” Akira chuckled. “I’m full of surprises.” 

Akechi laughed humorlessly, nodding his agreement. Silence fell over Leblanc, only the faint hum of the old lighting to keep it from being oppressive. 

That was one mystery solved at least. Akechi wasn’t trying to gain popularity or favor in the hearts of teenage girls in some elaborate plot to use their obsessive love for him to hunt down the Phantom Thieves. He’d seen some of the things fangirls have pulled off. All he would have had to do was promise a date to the girl who discovered the identities of the Phantom Thieves and in a week they would have been caught and rotting in jail. 

He was happy with that knowledge. It should have been enough for him to know that the Thieves were safe for another day, but the magazine caught his eye and his heart thumped and his mind reeled for the answers to his greatest question. 

Was it all just a coincidence? 

Did he really have more of a chance than he thought? 

Was he— Akira Kurusu, country boy turned framed criminal turned Phantom Thief and public enemy number one— Akechi’s special someone? 

Was it all too good to be true? 

His mind told him to let it go. Let that fleeting, fragile butterfly of hope go before it got squished underneath the heel of reality. 

But his heart ached to nurture that butterfly of hope and watch it dance in the wind and perhaps grow to become something more. 

And for as strong as his mind was, his heart was far stronger and won out. 

“Akechi,” he said, and for a moment he swore he saw terror cross his face. But then it was gone and he was looking at Akira with those eyes that dug so deep into his heart that it left marks there. 

His hands reached out and clutched the magazine like it was a lifeline, and steeled himself to begin his descent into the rough and uncertain waters. 

“I did read it,” he said, his voice hushed like it was a precious secret just between the two of them. Maybe it was. “I’ve read it more times than I can count.”

He didn’t wait to see Akechi’s reaction. Instead, he looked at the magazine and started reading. 

“ _ With the right person, I suppose any date could be considered perfect _ ,” he breathed the words out, lips forming the words that he’d read over countless times and they tasted sweet in his mouth. He didn’t have to continue looking at the article to recite the lines, so instead he decided to look at Akechi. 

Akechi, who was staring at him, eyes wide and glistening, lips red and cheeks the same color. 

“ _ Even something as trivial as, say, eating cake at a cafe or playing pool in a local bar _ .” 

“T-those are completely normal things for people to do,” Akechi spluttered out. His hands were closed in a tight, white knuckled fist and his cheeks were steadily turning a darker red. He always thought he looked good in red, but  _ damn,  _ did it suit Akechi more. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, Akira, but—” 

Akira continued, “ _ I suppose then, if trivial outings such as those were perfect, I’d consider taking them to the place that is special to me,”  _ he leaned in closer, just enough to see the faint tremble of his balled fists and the way his chest rose and fell just a slight bit faster than usual.  _ “I don’t often share such personal things with anyone, so I suppose that it would be my way of showing them I truly enjoyed our time together and that I care for them quite deeply.”  _ He paused and let the words hang in the air, marinating in the silence, his eyes sharply focused on Akechi and Akechi alone. 

He wasn’t looking at Akira anymore. His hands were no longer in fists, but instead sat uselessly in his lap. In all the time Akira had known Akechi, he’d never seen the other look so small. It was like he was curling in on himself, shying away from Akira and the magazine and the words he’d said as if they were flames and if he got too close he’d burn. 

“I… there are many hidden gems in Tokyo, Akira. I have many special places.” 

Akira stared. He silently pushed the magazine in front of Goro, hand pointing to the longest paragraph that he knew detailed the final nail in Goro’s metaphorical coffin. 

“ _ I find myself quite taken with the aquarium.  _ Isn’t that what you said, Goro? That sounds awfully familiar.” 

“I- it’s a popular date spot!” Akechi shouted. He pushed the magazine away from him violently. It slid across the counter's smooth surface and teetered on the edge of the bar. “It was the first thing I could think of to get that, that  _ hack  _ of a journalist off my back. I don’t spend my time thinking of- of  _ useless  _ trivialities like perfect dates!” 

Akira grabbed the magazine again and slammed it down between them. 

_ “I’d want to spend the rest of my days there staring at the way the light reflects off their  _ glasses _.”  _ Akira reached up and tore off the frames, waving them in front of Akechi. “ _ Glasses,  _ Goro. An interesting little tidbit to add in, isn’t it?” 

Akechi hopped up off his chair, eyes burning a raging fire that was wild and untamed. He slammed his own hands down onto the counter, on top of the magazine and got into Akira’s face. 

“In case you haven’t noticed,” he seethed, and they were close enough Akira could feel his breath on his lips. It was warm, and smelled like coffee. “You aren’t the only person in all of Tokyo to have glasses. Surprise,  _ Kurusu _ , you aren’t special!” 

Akira stared at Akechi and Akechi stared back. Neither wanted to back down. 

He knew he was dangling above the dark, thrashing waves. One wrong move and he’d plummet into the water and never come back up for air. He breathed in deep, steeled himself and took the plunge. 

“No interruptions.” 

It was such a simple statement, one that would have almost no meaning to anyone else, but to him it was his trump card. His three of spades to stop Akechi’s joker. 

Akechi was still standing, still leaned into his personal space and breathing the same air as him. When Akira repeated it— “no interruptions, Goro” — he finally released his breath and the tension that was in his shoulders and fell back into his seat. 

The two sat in silence. 

The waters were calm now, and he could feel himself break the surface and inhale a lungful of air. 

Finally, Akechi let out a weak laugh, eyes closed and slumped in his chair. 

“I… I don’t have an excuse for that one.” 

“I figured you wouldn’t.” 

His eyes opened again, the wild fire that was in them before now burnt out and only left behind simmering embers. 

“So what now, Akira?” Akechi’s voice was soft, almost defeated. “Was all that just to get me to admit to it? What, so you could laugh in my face for letting my guard down? For spilling my guts to some hack journalist? For getting swindled into an interview for a magazine like that in the first place?” 

Akira smiled. 

“Nah, none of those,” he said, tracing a delicate finger down the glossy page of the magazine. He looked up and met Akechi’s eyes. “Actually, now I’m dying to know the detective prince’s  _ second  _ best date idea.” 

He heard Akechi choke, his hand coming to his chest as he coughed. 

“Y-you’re messing with me,” Akechi said hoarsely. 

Akira just smiled wider and shook his head. His fingers deftly flipped the pages of the magazine, coming to a stop at a brightly colored page. 

He lifted it, pointing to a dazzling picture of Akechi and said, “See this? You  _ are  _ my perfect celebrity boyfriend, afterall.” 

Akira laughed as Akechi reached over and ripped the magazine out of his hands, throwing it across the room. 

* * *

Goro was early for his date with Akira. The other was still caught up in Akihabara with Futaba getting a new game for them to play later. It was some kind of shooting game, so Goro was almost positive they were going to sucker him into playing and he’d beat their asses as usual. He would pretend to be annoyed, but really, he secretly enjoyed it. 

Sojiro had sent him up to Akira’s room to wait for him with a quick nod and a smile. 

It sounded strange, but in the two months that they’d been dating, he hadn’t actually been inside Akira’s room. Anytime they were together they were either out Kichijoji, downstairs cuddled close in a booth, or gathered with the rest of Akira’s friends somewhere that was decidedly not Akira’s room. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t wanted to… spend some  _ quality time  _ with him there, but it seemed that Akira was highly against it. 

Akechi had to guess it was something to do with trying to hide the Phantom Thieves business from him— but really, he should know by now that Akechi had already figured them out— or he was just embarrassed because it was messy. 

But now, he had the perfect opportunity. Sure, he felt somewhat bad that he was entering without Akira’s permission, but he had Sojiro’s blessing and that was good enough for him. 

He climbed the stairs with some apprehension, pausing at the crest to take a brief breath to calm his nerves. Then he climbed the last stair and stepped in. 

He was shocked by how… normal it seemed. A little dusty— but, well, it was an  _ attic,  _ so what did he expect— but it wasn’t so terribly messy that Akira would have to be embarrassed by it. 

He walked further in, noticing the old tv and the surprisingly well taken care of plant. But when he spotted the bed he stopped dead in his tracks. 

The bed was nothing special, just a pile of blankets, but what was  _ above  _ the bed was enough to make his face burn. 

It was a large poster of him. He was posed and smiling his typical detective prince smile. Not a hair out of place nor an imperfection to be found. 

He walked closer to it, almost laughing at the near immaculate state it was in. 

On the bedside table was a familiar magazine. He reached out and picked it up, hands smoothing over the well worn cover. 

He flipped to the page that was bookmarked and shook his head at the all-too-familiar interview. He flipped to the other bookmark, laughing at the heart that was crudely drawn over his picture in the quiz. 

He hadn’t been happy at being interviewed for such a trashy magazine, but looking at the hearts littered on the pages and the fact that it was what finally led to him being truly happy for once in his life… he supposed it wasn’t the  _ worst  _ thing to have happened to him. 

He could hear the door jingle open and heard Sojiro’s voice greet his boyfriend, so he set down the magazine and went to the stairs. 

He paused a moment and turned back to look at the poster. 

He smiled— a real, genuine smile— and decided it was actually quite a charming picture of him, and descended the stairs to meet his boyfriend with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I had the honor of being paired with the insanely talented Sora ([ @reveriesky ](https://twitter.com/reveriesky) on Twitter!) Please check out the amazing art that was made [ here! ](https://twitter.com/reveriesky/status/1305263050224619520)
> 
> My twitter: [ @bearlywrite ](https://twitter.com/bearlywrite)


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